


blame

by dansmithism



Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2019-06-30 12:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15751266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dansmithism/pseuds/dansmithism
Summary: the most dangerous man in 60s South London is dan smith, and woe betide anyone who sets off his foul temper.





	1. you go sleep with the fishes

**Author's Note:**

> I promised some 60s Don Dan AU and here it is // warning for violence (it's not graphic but it is there).

Calmly sipping at his drink, Dan ignored the babbling that came out of the teenager that was practically pissing himself in the gangster’s presence then flicked his eyes over the boy’s entire being. He was spotty, scrawny, flushed in the face, badly dressed and was vibrating with fear – and rightfully so; he was, after all in the presence of the most feared man in South London and that meant one of two things: either, one, the boy’s skills in the criminal world had reached Dan and impressed him, or, two (and this was most definitely the reason why this little piss-streak had been brought before the older man), he had royally fucked up and had enraged him. Tired of glaring at the boy, Dan sighed and carefully put his drink down onto the table.  
“Shut up.” He commanded sternly, pulling the black leather and silver-edged cigarette box towards him, flipping it open with ease before going about the usual motions of taking one between his teeth and sparking up. He didn’t bother with pulling it away from his face to release the smoke, instead he exhaled heavily through his nose as he snapped the box shut and placed it and his zippo back onto the table close to his half-empty glass. Without hesitation, the skinny, shivering boy silenced his stammering and bit down hard at his lower lip. “Do you know how much you’ve cost me? Hm?” Dan mumbled, slowly taking the cigarette from his mouth and adjusting himself so that he properly faced the pink-faced, terrified teenager. “How much money I’ve pissed down the drain because of you?”  
Too afraid to open his mouth and frozen to the floor, the boy did nothing more than whimper.  
“You, you little prick, owe me ten grand.” A jaw-clench followed immediately by a twitch of his eyebrows as he locked eyes with the kid. “Now, tell me, Pinkie Brown, how the fuck do you intend on repaying your debt? With the bob you make on your little paper round, with your shitty services as a pickpocket or by giving me one of your fingers?”  
“Please, Mr. Smith!” Squeaked the boy, reanimating now that his brain had processed the coolly-made threat. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Please don’t do that! You, you, don’t need to do that! Please!”  
Dan clenched his jaw and tapped ash into a square-ish little tray at the centre of the table. “Who said I was going to do anything? All I did was ask you how you intend to repay me my ten grand.” He retorted, pulling a second drag off the little white stick between his forefingers.  
“I’ll do anything you want! Just, just please don’t hurt me!” The boy blurted, fidgeting around some more and really testing the older male’s patience. “Please!”  
“Stop your squawking, you’re giving me a migraine.” Snipped the gangster, leaning back into his seat and giving the boy a good, long glare of warning. He ran his tongue against his lower lip and used a finger to absentmindedly push his glasses up the bridge of his nose then released a deep, frustrated sigh. “You know what? No matter what option I give you, you’ll just end up taking me for a mug anyway, won’t you? So, I’m just going to take a finger.” He said, much too calmly for it to be taken as any kind of joke. “Dick, hold him still.” He ordered, briefly turning his attention to the man that was currently stopping the kid from making a run for it before he rifled through his pockets for a white handkerchief and his trusty flick-knife.  
“No! No, please!” Screamed the teenager, his weak, sticky body violently struggling against Dick’s iron grip as he was forced over to the table. “No! No!” He shouted some more, his voice cracking some as it got hoarser and the man beside him held his hand down on the table.  
“If you hold still, it won’t hurt that much.” Dan said, feigning the sound of reassurance as he flicked his knife open and hovered the blade over bottom half of the boy’s ring finger. He set his cigarette down in the ashtray and had prepared himself to cut the digit off before he paused and put the knife down. “Actually, I want you to hurt. You deserve it for fucking up my work.”

With that, he picked up the cigarette, put it between his teeth and picked up the small but heavy ashtray. Calm as you like, Dan stood up and, in one swift motion, threw the ashtray down onto the boy’s two middle fingers, causing a loud eruption of a pained scream to cut through the silence in the room. Another smack from the ashtray and another scream from the teenager and Dan was done.

“Fuck with me again, Pinkie Brown and I will do far worse than that.” He smiled at the whimpering boy, setting the ashtray down and pulling his cigarette away from his face with one hand whilst giving the boy’s cheek a gentle slap with the other. “Now, I’ll send for you by the end of the week and if you don’t have at least three-hundred pounds ready for me when I saunter in for a cup of tea at your mother’s house then you’ll be in very hot water. Do you understand?”  
“Y-Y-Yes, sir.” Nodded the boy, his tears still streaking down his face.  
“Good lad.” Smirked the gangster. “I’ll see you Friday afternoon.” He added just for good measure, picking up his drink and calmly making his exit.

× × × × ×

Ungraciously, unceremoniously dumping himself into the red Chesterfield that sat in one corner of his study, the gangster found himself lost in his own thoughts for a moment. His drink was still in his hand the cigarette he had been nursing was still, somehow, throwing up purple-grey smoke into the atmosphere around him, but he wasn’t really bothered about either of them. What he was really bothered about was the fact that one the girls from the club had found her way into his inner sanctum and was trying way too hard to catch his attention. She looked and dressed as though she were Jean Shrimpton’s twin but spoke like a cab driver. She had a little pink cigarette of her own between her fingers and she was fussing through Dan’s prized record collection. Her name was Pam.  
“You alright, darlin’?” She cooed from her side of the room, trying her very best to look sultry and seductive for him but, unfortunately for her, failing. He wasn’t interested in women. Not in that way, anyway. He liked their company, sure, but as for anything else? No, he would rather not, thank you very much. He much preferred the idea of a dark-haired boy with nice eyes looking up at him as he... No, now wasn’t the time for that. He was supposed to be coming up with a response for the girl in baby pink.  
“’M fine.’ He lied, taking a final swig of his drink before slamming the glass down onto the side-table.  
“You seem tense... ‘Ere, would you like a back rub?” A frown fell across her face before she immediately brightened it up with a smile. “I’m good at those and they really help after a long day.” Her eagerness would have been cute and appealing had Dan been any other kind of man but, if anything, it was just worsening the migraine “Pinkie Brown” had caused.  
“No, thanks.’ He sighed, shaking his head some. “Pam, can you do me a favour?”  
“Course, love, what do you need?” She twittered, still wearing that idiotic little grin on her face. She was much too eager to please the exceptionally dangerous man that sat across from her and, quite frankly, it was quite sad.  
“Can you go and get Kyle for me, please?” He sighed, sinking into his chair and taking a good, long final drag off his cigarette before he flicked it into the nearby fireplace. “And a top up?” He added, picking up his empty glass and stretching it out to her. “Send Kyle in with it... I need a word with him in private.”  
“Oh, uhm. okay!” Nodded Pam, stepping toward him to get the glass before gracefully leaving the room and dousing it in the silence Dan had so craved.

After some time had passed there was a quiet knock on the door.  
“It’s alright, Kyle, you can come in.’ Called Dan, not bothering to move an inch. From his perch, he watched as the taller man slipped into the room, drink in hand, and closed the door behind him.  
“Pam said you wanted a word?” Kyle mumbled, handing the glass over to Dan who took it and immediately put it onto the sidetable before grabbing at the other man’s forearm and pulling him into a kiss.  
“I need you to calm me down.” He whispered, having parted the kiss and taking a tight hold of Kyle’s lapel. “I’m getting close to losing my fucking wick and I need you to calm me down.”  
“What happened?” Frowned Kyle, searching into Dan’s eyes.  
“Nothing for you to worry about.” Dan replied quietly, gazing right back into Kyle’s. “Just... Kiss me again.”  
“Dan, we shouldn’t... What if-?” Began the younger male, a sudden form of fear gripping him.  
“No one would dare walk in here without my say so in the first place, let alone say a fuckin’ word about what they’d see us doing.” Interrupted the elder, that calm sense of authority becoming an overwhelming force in the atmosphere around them. “Kiss me again.” He demanded again with more power behind his request this time; one that forced Kyle to oblige and push into a deep kiss.

As they kissed, Dan’s hands found their way to Kyle’s waist, resting there for a moment or two before the gangster had decided to pick him up and pull him onto his lap. The kissing became more passionate and desperate, neither one of them wanting to pause for breath and Dan fighting hard to keep his title as the dominant force between the two of them. Kyle broke the kiss once or twice to pull off his jacket and then, once Dan had finished unbuttoning it, his shirt in a frenzied rush of excitement and released a happy sort of sigh as the coldness of Dan’s hands made itself known against his skin before immediately returning to the task at hand.


	2. there's no room for you here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> calmer now after the incident with "pinkie brown", dan enjoys some peace with kyle before having to prepare for the opening of his new club

Having Kyle softly snuggled against him after the roughness and desperate sort of fight for dominance, that the other male ultimately lost, seemed to put the gangster at ease. His previous anger toward the idiot kid from earlier had dissolved and had been replaced with an overwhelming sense of calm. If he didn’t know better, he would have mistaken that calm for a feeling of love toward the man that was currently nuzzling at his neck with such a gentle touch against the skin that it was barely felt at all. A part of him wondered if he did actually love Kyle, or if he was simply just another pacifying addiction similar to nicotine and alcohol that he felt he needed to stop himself from completely losing his mind. That thought then evolved to wonder if his predecessor did similar things to blow off steam after dealing with such insufferable idiocy. Dan came to the conclusion that he probably did only with a long line of women instead of the same man over and over again. At least Dan was addicted to one person.  
“...Dan?” Kyle’s quiet voice interrupted his thoughts. Instead of saying anything, the gangster hummed his response and moved somewhat so that he could place a small kiss against Kyle’s temple. “What would happen if someone caught us?” The question was asked with some fear hidden in the cadences that tugged at Dan’s heart somewhat.  
“I told you,” Dan began, his voice gentle but firm, “no one would dare come into a room we’re in without knocking, let alone say anything about what they saw us doing.”  
“Yes but... What if they did?” Kyle was insistent on this hypothetical, apparently. Perhaps it would be best to give him a story that would pacify him the way the sex they’d had pacified Dan?  
“If they did, it would be a case of their word against ours.” He stated, finding his fingers tangled in Kyle’s hair as he mulled through the idea. “But if they were believed and the police took us in for it, I’d exchange our freedom for the type of cash they’re working much too hard to never see. I’d make it plain that if any harm came to you, that I would do far worse to them or to someone they cared about as much as I cared about you should they initially refuse the money and they’d let us go.”  
“Would they though?” A light frown came over the younger man’s face.  
“Yes, if they knew what was good for them.” Dan said much too seriously, deciding to punctuate his statement with another kiss to the side Kyle’s head. “If they hurt you, I would kill a copper without thinking twice about it.” Shit, if Kyle was hurt by a copper, Dan would kill him without even blinking. One flick of his knife sliced against the throat followed by a stab into the lung and the bastard would be dead and Dan would feel absolutely no remorse. He had done it before and, for this sweet boy cuddled into his side, he would gladly do it again. Bluebottles, as far as Dan was concerned, deserved whatever they got. That one he’d killed in past sure as fuck deserved it for beating the shit out of his last lover to the point where the boy had died. The images of that night were still burnt into his brain and he’d be damned if he let anyone do those things to Kyle as well.  
“You’d get life... Killing a copper.” Mumbled Kyle after poring over the sentiment for a few moments.  
“They haven’t managed to cage me yet and I doubt they ever will.” Dan had played this off as a joke and laughed at the very idea of him having to face the consequences for any of his crimes; especially the crime of turning a blue uniform purple.  
“Ronnie Kray said that and he ended up serving time and he got beaten up by the guards.” Kyle argued, making Dan shift uncomfortably. He didn’t like hearing the name Kray. Those twins were the bane of his existence; taking territory, taking men, taking everything from right under his nose. He wanted them dead, but without causing a bigger discourse between himself and their gang, which would shine a very public spotlight on his own activities, there wasn’t much he could do about them.  
“Don’t ever mention that name around me again.” He demanded, shifting some more so that Kyle would get off of him and allow him to move freely.  
“I’m sorry.” Mumbled the younger male, snatching at his clothes and starting to pull them on.  
“You need a suit that fits you better.” Dan commented, ignoring the apology and tilting his head to one side so that he could admire Kyle at an angle. “I’ll take you to Saville Row tomorrow... Get you something nice.” He continued, allowing a smile to appear against his tired face.  
“Something that you’re bound to want to take off as soon as I put it on?” Kyle’s cheek, in this instance, was cute and it encouraged Dan’s smile to stretch just ever so slightly.  
“We’ll see.” He smirked, straightening himself up and leaning over to the side table, snatching his cigarette box. Having opened the box, he offered the box to Kyle. Being unable to refuse any of Dan’s offers, Kyle took two and placed them both between his teeth, pulling out a lighter from out of his trouser pocket and setting them alight. Slowly, he pulled one away from his face and gave it to Dan, who smiled sweetly, took the cigarette and sucked at it’s end gratefully. “I have you well trained.”  
“You know perfectly well that I’d do anything for you.” Kyle retorted, expelling a quiet, dreamy sort of sigh.  
“Course you would.” Dan sniggered, tapping grey flakes into the nearby ashtray.

× × × × ×

With night falling so quickly over city, the gangster glared at his own image in the large mirror that was hung up in the hallway. He didn’t want to make an appearance at his newest club but with this being it’s grand opening there was no way a party could happen without the owner being present to be fawned over by localised celebrities, the press and the poorly dressed regular people alike. A middle finger pushed at the bridge of his glasses, forcing them up his nose as he released a sigh and scanned his mirror image’s choice of outfit for the evening. November demanded that he wore a coat over his deep black suit and he supposed that he was thankful that he hadn’t opted for the overly contrasting blue suit he had initially wanted to slip into once he had adjusted the collar of the charcoal woollen trench coat somewhat.  
“Car’s ready.” A voice cut into the silence of the house and interrupted Dan’s busied preening of himself. “It was the jag you wanted, right?”  
“Yes, thank you.” Dan nodded glancing over to the broad man that had addressed him. “I’ll be there now. I just need to make a phone call first.” He said, to which the bodyguard responded with a hesitant sort of nod before disappearing out of the front door closing it behind him with a firm slap. Once he was left to his own devices again the gangster glanced at himself in the mirror one last time before turning his attention to a black rotary that sat on the phone table to his right. He picked up the receiver and span the circular object at the centre of the heavy telephone a few times then clenched his jaw some as he put the receiver to his ear. It rang three times before someone picked up.  
“Yeah?” Said the hoarse voice at the other end of the line.  
“It’s Dan. I’ll meet you at eleven by the dockyards. Don’t be late.” Dan told it before slamming the receiver down and making a swift exit.


	3. there's no room for you here

"Just here will be fine." Dan told his driver, not bothering to look away from the backseat window as he adjusted his posture against the leather seat. "Thank you." He added as an afterthought when the rumbling Jaguar's engine was killed and the car came to a steady stop by a skyscraper made of shipping containers. Without a word, the driver got out of the car and made his way around to Dan's door, opening it with ease so that the unassuming twink of a man could exit with ease and an ominous air of authority. He gave the driver a nod as an order to slam the car door shut, adjusted his coat then moved toward another car hidden somewhere underneath the dim, flickering spotlight. When he had eventually scraped to a halt, he straightened his back, broadened his shoulders and sighed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, his right hand slowly tightening its grip around his trusty flick-knife - just in case things decided to go awry.  
"Good to see you again, Dan." A voice broke across the ambient sound of water lapping against the mudbanks, alerting the gangster to their presence.  
"Good of you to come on time, Ralph." A touch of sarcasm accompanied by a polite sort of smile.  
"I wasn't going to make that mistake again, was I?" Replied the other man, finally coming into full view under the orange-tinted light. He wasn't quite as well-groomed as he usually was; his hair was roughly tousled and in the open gap his coat made, Dan noticed a hap-hazardly knotted tie and a few stripes of blood staining what used to be a bright white suit shirt with a dog-eared collar. It seemed Ralph had been busy dealing with his own problematic friends and this, for some reason, brought a more sincere smile to Dan's face. A part of himself supposed it amused him to see his old friend so ragged and rough around the edges. It reminded him of a time almost long forgotten... When they were young men with nothing to lose except their pride and an insaciable taste for ambitious ranks within their old gangs.  
"I see you've been dealing with some pests... I hear Dalton is full of them." He snarked, still just about holding on to his amused smirk.  
"Unfortunately." Agreed Ralph, running a hand through his hair and showing off a bright smile. He, too, had missed the banter he and Dan once shared so often. "I heard you broke a kid's hand with an ashtray. Your temper still gets the better of you, hm?"  
"Careful, Pelleymounter." Dan's smirk immediately disappeared, replacing his formerly fond expression with a cold, hard stare. They may have been friends at one time but even old friends could overstep the mark from time to time and Dan was not about to let anyone, not even Ralph, get away with that. It would give too many young men the ammunition to make an attempt at the Smith kingdom and he did not have the time nor the patience to deal with the underworld's equivalent of silverfish.  
"Sorry... Mr Smith." Ralph glared right back, a whisper of a smile still glued onto one side of his face as he watched Dan squirm a little. What a little snake, using his attraction against him like that; using their former sexual encounters against him like that... That wasn't fair. It wasn't at all fair.  
"Shall we get down to business, then? I'm done fucking about." Dan sniped through gritted teeth, his ice blue eyes locked on Ralph's face.  
"Oh, you wound me, Dan, I like playing nice with you..." Ralph made a point of dramatically throwing a hand to his chest and pouting, which only grated against Dan's short fuse some more.  
"Ralph." A low growl from the king South London.  
"Fine. Business it is." Barked the emperor of Hackney, releasing a heavy sigh. "What's the score?"  
"I need your help with something." Dan said plainly, shifting his weight.  
"That being?" Encouraged Ralph, making a face.  
"I'm having an issue with some rats of my own. The Krays, a little shit stain called Barnes... I'm getting a little... Annoyed by all of it." Dan explained, clenching his jaw.  
"I have my own shit to deal with, without playing exterminator for you." Ralph spat at him, glowering at the immaculately dressed man before him. There was a small pang of jealousy hidden underneath all the layers of peacocking confidence. Jealousy toward Dan's quick run into power and quick-witted ability to stay sitting upon that throne while he... He was barely struggling to keep Hackney and Dalton within his realm's boundaries. It had insulted him, quite frankly to be asked by the South's King to do the dirty work for him. He was not some spotty teenaged puppy willing to jump at Dan's beck and call, after all. Ralph had his own shit going on, his own gang to run... The slight had caused an angry lightning bolt to shiver up his spinal cord and a harsh expulsion of a sigh to leave him. "I am not your cleaner."  
"All I need from you is to distract the Kray twins while I deal with Barnes is all." Dan argued, equally offended by the assumption made by the scruffy excuse for a gang leader.  
"What's in it for me?" Ralph asked after taking a moment to process the request. "Because I sure as fuck am not doing it out of the goodness of my heart."  
"I wouldn't expect you to, dear." Dan smirked, shifting himself again, finally allowing himself to loosen the grip he had on his knife. "I'm in the middle of a few jobs at the moment... I can give you a good twenty-five grand of the profit if you just get the Krays to look the other way for a little while."  
"Make it double. It is the Krays we're talking about here... They're a big risk." Ralph countered, trying to make himself look bigger and more dangerous. Like a wild dog ready to go in for the kill.  
"Seventy-five?" Dan offered a second time, raising an eyebrow at him.  
Ralph took a deep inhale, made a face then nodded. "Fine. Seventy-five. I've got some friends this side of the river that can help me with the smoke and mirrors."  
"Thank you." Smiled Dan, giving his associate a courteous nod. "When I've dealt with the Barnes boy, I'll call you again to deliver the cash."  
"Alright... I take it we're done?" Ralph retorted, already making the move to leave.  
"For now." Nodded the Southern king before swiftly turning on his heel and marching back toward the car. "Oh, Ralph?" He called, pretending he had just remembered something, prompting Pelleymounter to snap his head back in his direction. "Fuck this up for me and I will not hesitate to kill you."  
"Noted." Came the curt reply before Dan disappeared back into his shiny Jagauar and the door was slammed shut.

"Where now, sir?" Asked the driver, having made himself comfortable back behind the steering wheel.  
"Home... I have someone waiting for me." Dan ordered, putting a cigarette between his teeth.


End file.
